


Suffering Suits You

by uradora



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Citadel of Ricks, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, First Time Blow Jobs, Humiliation, Incest, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Strangulation, Underage Drinking, Underage Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-05-02 01:25:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14533671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uradora/pseuds/uradora
Summary: During a perilous space journey, Rick and Morty have a serious falling out, which leads both of them to reconsider their abusive relationship. Morty is convinced he wants to get away from Rick, but he is, at the same time, confused by his disturbing desires.





	1. Chapter 1

"Oh jeez, oh jeez, Rick, what's happening?"

Morty's stomach did a flip as the space car went down several dozens of meters in an almost-freefall before Rick got the altitude under control again. Then the engine sputtered and slowed, thankfully near ground level.

"Oh for the love of-"

Rick manouvered the car slowly towards the ground just before the engine cranked to a halt.

"W-well, M-morty, it's looks like we -euuurrgghh- we're stuck here for  
now."

Morty threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Again? Do you- do you even know where here is?"

Rick looked around, shrugging. Weird banana-shaped trees lined the landscape. The sky was tinted a bluish green. It seemed to be early evening, but you couldn't say for sure.

"Nah, I, uh, I can't say I recognize the place, M-morty."

"Oh, jeez!"

Morty yelped as he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw a vaguely humanoid-shaped orange person with what appeared to be several rolls of fat around his or her (or their?) facial area. 

"Are you lost? We could help you out. My family's home is just a short way off, if you want to stop for a bite."

The creature's voice was like a kindly grandmother's, and so were their words. Morty felt considerably more at ease for that.

"Ah, yeah, we just crash landed and-"

"Thanks, but no thanks," Rick interrupted. "I think we can- I'd say we can mana-euuurggh-ge on our own."

The creature's fat-roll-y thingies twitched in something almost like a frown. Morty fidgeted, turning towards Rick.

"I, uh, Rick, didn't you- didn't you always used to s-say we should r-respect the customs of other planets? I think- I think we should just-"

Rick threw his hands up.

"Ah, fine!" He turned to speak to the creature. "I can fix t-the car on my own, but I can come for a bite or w-whatever, if that's so god -euurgh- so goddamn important to you."

"Rick! Don't be rude!"

Rick wheeled on Morty, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"You've a l-long way to go before you can- before you can t-tell me what I can and can't do, M-Morty."

Rick let out a giant belch. He looked annoyed, but he followed the kindly creature, who introduced themselves as Bllaarrgh.

Rick had been more irritable than usual whole day. Morty kinda feared stress was wearing him down - that he was slowly losing it. He probably needed some outlet for his frustration and rage, but Morty couldn't tell him that. Rick would just snark at him and tell him he shouldn't teach his father how to fuck or something.

Bllaarggh's family was nice enough. The food was weird and gooey, but it tasted good. Rick was never picky about alien food, and the fact that he hadn't dropped dead despite scarfing down his plate in record time told Morty that he should be safe having a bite too. And it was all right. Almost like jelly beans.

"Are all people of your p-planet this friendly?" Morty asked between bites of his food.

Bllaarggh - Morty assumed she was a she, and the mother of the family, or so it looked like - waved her hands.

"This much is normal, not friendly. It's customary to offer food for strangers here, especially young tasty little morsels like yourself. The code decrees it."

Morty decided let the vaguely disturbing comment about the tasty morsels slide for now. Bllaarggh's family didn’t seem like the cannibalistic type, but still...

"The code? W-what's tha-"

Rick banged his fist on the table, interrupting Morty.

"Don't make nice with t-these a-holes, Morty! J-just- just shut your trap and -euurgh- keep it nice and closed."

Morty could feel anger rising within himself, almost palpable now. Such a rude interruption out of nowhere. Just how much did Rick disrespect him? He shouldn’t have to take this shit.

"No, Rick, you- you s-shut up! I'm tired of your, your bossing and your-"

Morty stopped in his tracks. He realized he'd knocked down his chair in his fury, stood up, hands balled into fists and ready to go. Holy shit. Where had that anger come from?

Bllaarggh and her family were silently watching. The feeling around the table had gotten eerie.

"Good, good!" Bllaarggh said slowly, clapping her hands. "The decree is fulfilled and you have eaten of the seed. Now, let your anger flow."

Rick slapped his forehead as a look of horror dawned on his face.

"Oh, shitgrapes. Th-they-re Ga-lump-a-lumps, Morty, they feed on n-negative emotions! W-we must feel like -euurgh- like a fucking smorgasbord to them. Th-this is your fault, Morty, you little shit!"

Morty gasped as hands tightened around his throat, so hard his vision dimmed. Whose hands were these? Rick's hands? Suddenly his anger felt diluted. Morty almost felt like floating.

"And now to taste you..."

As his vision cleared, Morty saw Bllaarggh hovering over him, multiple appendages suddenly sprouting from the folds of her head. Morty  
screamed as Bllaarggh grabbed him, but was promptly silenced. He felt something fleshy in his mouth, filling it all up. He vaguely heard Rick's voice as if from a distance. 

As the fleshy feeling crawled up Morty's nostrils as well, he started to choke. Was this it? Was this the way he was going to go?

Just as Morty started to drift from pain to a blissful haze, everything faded to black.

...

When Morty came to, they were back in the spacecar, Rick and him. Immediately as his head cleared and he remembered what had just happened, Morty felt the anger and rage rushing back to him and he wheeled towards Rick, his brow creased in fury.

"What the- what the actual fuck was that about, Rick? S-someday you'll really get me k-killed! Is that what you want, you c-crazy old fart?"

Rick's eyes were so, so cold. It would have scared Morty if he wasn't so angry. Now, he just wanted to reach out and strangle the hell out of his shit of a grandfather. If only he was grown and had enough strength...

"I- look, you little fuck, I-I fucking just saved you from alien space rape, M-Morty, you get that?" Rick's voice  
wasn't just dismissive like it usually was - it was cruel. "Actually, I bet you fucking w-wanted it, you filthy, maladjusted little creep whose parents never loved you quite enough, right, it's the same old- same old sob story, isn't it? F-fantasizing of rape ’cause Daddy never loved you. You're painfully boring, you hear that?"

Morty wanted to scream. And so he did.

"S-so don't drag me along on your shitty adventures, then, y-you horrible excuse for a caregiver!” Morty was panting and heaving, shouting with all his might. ”I-I hate you so much, I h-hope you- I know you're going to d-die alone and unloved in a ditch on some faraway planet!"

Rick gave Morty a cold look.

"So you're saying- y-you're saying you don't need me, right? Is th-that it, Morty?"

Rick didn’t seem all that angry anymore. Instead he was calmer than he had been in a long time, his face almost completely expressionless. By all rights that should've scared Morty, but now it didn't. It only made his own resentment towards Rick grow. The old man wouldn't look down on Morty anymore - not for long.

"Yes." Morty was careful not to let his voice crack. "That's exactly it. I don't need you, and I don't want  
you."

Frozen, Morty waited for a response, but one never came. Instead Rick leaned close and wrapped his hands around Morty's throat, squeezing much like Bllaarggh had done before. But now it felt different.

Morty felt the burning inside his chest drop to his stomach and change to a different kind of heat. A low  
moan escaped from him.

"Th-that's the stuff...” Rick hissed in Morty’s ear. ”Y-yeah, you do need me, y-you bitch, you know you do."

Morty could hardly even hear Rick anymore. A fog descended all over his brain. He couldn't tell what was happening. He was vaguely aware of Rick pulling down his pants, his penis being stroked. His body was almost completely limp except for that one part of him. A feeling of guilt and disgust washed all over him, intermingling with pleasure.

Rick shoved his fingers down Morty's throat hard.

"Th-that's so much better, Morty, it really is. I-I like you a lot more when you d-dont speak and you don't m-move."

Rick's fingers kept playing on Morty's dick as he removed the boy's pants. His voice was husky. His breaths came in shallow puffs.

"God d-damn, your little cock is hard." Rick pulled Morty's hair, jerking his head back and making him yelp. "And-and how d-dare you talk so t-tough to me when the t-truth was- when all the time y-you just w-wanted me to jump your bones like the pathetic l-little c-cumdumpster you are? Huh?"

Rick pulled Morty's hair almost hard enough to tear out a chunk. Morty screamed, and then he moaned. Rick slapped his face, and he shut up. He didn't even make a sound as Rick grabbed him and turned him around.

Morty's spine jolted in shock as Rick's cock suddenly pushed inside him. 

It hurt. 

It hurt so fucking much and it was like he was tearing up inside, but Rick didn't care, he didn't care at all, and oh God why did Morty feel the raw need to grind his ass against Rick's cock and stick his tongue out moaning, whimpering...

"Th-that's goooood," Rick drawled. "Keep g-going, ugh, I'm close..."

Rick sped up. Morty's insides hurt so much, he was certain he was dying, but his head said he liked it, his head swam with pleasure, he was dizzy and he didn't even know what the was saying.

"Wh-what's that?"

"Uhh... Rick..."

"What? I-I can't hear you. Sp-speak up, slut."

Rick stopped thrusting. Morty bucked his hips, but Rick stopped him from moving with his hands. His grip was surprisingly strong.

"What. Do. You. Want."

"I... uh... I want y-your cock..."

Morty was too dizzy to think. It was hard to string two words together, but he had to get this right. Rick chuckled.

"Y-you really are a whore."

Morty came with a gasp and a violent shudder. He bucked up, and after that he couldn't remember what happened. It didn't last long afterwards, though, and Morty felt so relaxed and satisfied he almost immediately passed out and slept.

...

When Morty woke up, they were still in the car. Rick was awake, sitting still, staring off into the distance, his eyes completely blank. As he heard Morty stirring, he turned to face him.

Morty no longer felt the rush of anger. No, instead he felt hollow. Petrified. His eyes stung with tears, but he didn't feel like crying.

There was a moment of deep silence.

"Y-you raped me," Morty finally said as he found his voice.

Rick lowered his eyes, looking at his hands. He was quiet for a long time. He never looked up, didn’t even glance at Morty.

"Th-that wasn't me, Morty. I wouldn't- I wouldn't do that."

Morty took a deep, shaky breath.

"L-look, I don't know exactly wh-what that food- what the food made us do, b-but those were your feelings, right? I-I know my own anger didn't come from s- somewhere else."

Rick let out a long sigh. For the first time in a long time, he looked really old and frail.

"I-I don't- I don't kn-know, Morty. Wh-what the hell do you want me to say? I don't th-think sorry's gonna cut it."

"You've changed, Rick."

Rick's eyes met Morty's. He still looked old, old and tired, but also cold. Just like last night... Morty shivered.

"Have I- have I really, Morty?” Rick’s expression hardened. ”Or is- is it just your p-perception of me that's changed? Are you sure you're not- you're not interpreting me th-through the lens of your own t-twisted desires, Morty? Are you?"

Morty felt shame washing over him like a tsunami, but he couldn't focus on that now. Not when he finally felt he had something with which to stand up against Rick. Stand up for himself, finally. He needed to think about _his_ needs.

"D-do you really think you have the m-moral high ground here, R-rick? Y-you disgust me."

Rick cast one last look at Morty, and then turned to set on the engine.

"Th-then you disgust me too, Morty."


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the trip back home passed in silence. Truth was, Morty couldn't wait to be rid of Rick. The space car felt so suffocating now, and Morty just wanted to run away screaming somewhere who knows where. Only the thought of Mom and Dad and Summer - and Jessica, mostly Jessica in fact - kept him from jumping right out of the car just there.

Back in the garage, Rick turned towards Morty. He paused for an abnormally long while before starting to speak, holding eye contact. Morty couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t bear to look at Rick and so he turned away, and that’s when Rick spoke.

"Ah, l-look, Morty. I wan't you to know- we've been through a lot, and I know th-this last trip has been really –euurgh- stressful for you, so I wouldn't- I wouldn't worry about it much. Go to school. Meet some friends. Y-you'll get over it."

Morty had been clenching his fists while Rick spoke, and now he unclenched them, fearful of all the anger he was holding inside. He seethed, and not because of the alien food anymore. He was sick of all this patronizing. Rick thought he could use him, do whatever he wanted, put him in danger, and then just wave it all off every time? 

There had to be a better way for Morty, and he was going to say it. Finally he was just going to fucking get out there and say it.

"No, Rick. I won't g-get over it. And you- you know why? Because you always- always think you know better than me, b-but you're not right! Not this time."

As Morty watched, Rick gave him _a look_ in that condescending way of his. Then he simply turned back to his desk.

"F-fine. Th-think whatever the fuck you like, Morty. S-see if I care."

Morty wasn’t surprised. Obviously Rick thought Morty would just turn right around and change his mind. Well, he wouldn't. He would surprise the old shit. He would surprise him well indeed.

Rick wasn't even acknowledging Morty's presence anymore, which was good, since his emergency spare portal gun sat unguarded on a shelf and Morty just so happened to be able to reach it. 

Yeah, he could be like Rick too. Traveling around the multiverse, not giving a shit about anyone. That could be the good life, couldn't it?

…

The Citadel was a familiar place, and held many Mortys. That was why Morty decided to stop there to start with. An added bonus was that if his Rick ever decided to come after him, he likely wouldn't search for him there first.

As Morty walked through the Citadel, he enjoyed hisfirst tentative sips of freedom. No Rick to commandeer him and whisk him around, he was free to look at the sights and gawp at cowboy, astronaut and Indian Mortys and Ricks with no Rick there to mock him for it.

It was fun for a while, freedom, but soon it became clear to Morty that he had no idea what to do.

Morty was lonely, that was the truth of it. Now that he was rid of his Rick, he could finally admit it to himself.

There was also the matter of what happened on the space car - something he definitely didn't want to think about. He wanted to overwrite that memory with some nicer ones, or maybe lock it down somewhere deep within his memory where he could never find it again. Perhaps that was something Rick could have helped with... except he was a monster, and Morty wanted nothing to do with him ever again.

But the multiverse was vast, and the Ricks there infinite. There were bound to be some nicer Ricks out there somewhere.

And so, given that he already was in the Citadel, where knowledge of various Ricks and Mortys abound, Morty decided to ask around. First, he tried asking the Ricks themselves, but that didn't go over very well. Thus Morty soon turned to Mortys instead.  
Morty first decided to approach a cheerful-looking Morty in a snappy school uniform. He seemed like a knowledgeable and friendly enough fellow - a good place to start.

"Hello!"

The other Morty immediately stopped and gave a chipper smile.

"Well, hello there, fellow Morty! How can I help you today?"

Gosh, this Morty was so polite! Morty had a very good feeling about this. This Morty didn't even stutter. So well-bred. Morty felt slightly self-conscious, but then again, he was basically talking to himself so what reason did he have to feel that way?

"Um, do you h-have any idea- do you k-know where I could find a new Rick for myself?"

The other Morty looked concerned, which immediately made Morty self-conscious and had him doubting his choice of words.

"Aw jeez, did your Rick, um, pass away? My condolences."

Morty waved his hands in front his face, frantically showing his denial.

"Ah, n-no, nothing like that, no! He's just- it's just that he's, you know- he, uh, he's so mean to me, and I'd like to meet some other Ricks, you know?"

The other Morty slowly nodded, still looking concerned.

"I… I understand. Well, you may not be able to find yourself a new Rick, but you can meet other Ricks to find out they're not all bad."

"Wh-where could I find a nice Rick?"

"I don’t really know many Ricks and I don’t really have much time to spare anyway, sorry to say. I would suggest asking Gallup Morty. He doesn't know all the answers to every Morty's questions, but his job is to find out."

Morty tried his best to stay positive, so naturally he thought the suggestion sounded like a good idea. He nodded, and let the other Morty show him the way to Gallup Morty's little office – he insisted, despite being busy – before leaving for after-school lessons.  
The office was a single room with a desk and some drawers, and so small that Morty could take it all in with a single look after stepping in. Yet despite being so small, the room looked professional. There was no paperclip or a stack of documents out of place. It was all very, very office-like.

A slicked-up Morty in a suit with a Morty-badge in the front stood up and smiled.

"G-good day! Um..."

Morty noticed the corner of the suited Morty's mouth did a little nervous tug, and immediately started feeling self-conscious himself. He let his eyes run around the little room as if examining it, even though there really wasn't much there to examine.

"H-hello. N-nice place you have here."

Gallup Morty blinked. 

"Really? You think so?"

There was a buzzing sound, then a metallic voice rang out.

"In our estimation, Ricks don't consider us important enough to give us a larger office."

Morty started.

"What was that?"

Gallup Morty gave a nervous laugh.

"O-oh, that's just Micro Morty here." He tapped on his badge. "He's a micro PC. H-he does all the- he handles the c-computing and the surveying... stuff."

Morty felt confused.

"So why isn't- isn't he the real Gallup Morty then?"

Annoyance flashed on Gallup Morty's face for the briefest instant.

"N-no. I-I'm Gallup Morty. Th-that’s me. I poll all- every Morty on the Citadel network, I- I ask the questions."

"S-so you don't p-poll any Ricks?"

There was the buzz again, and the metallic voice.

"That's right. For any given Rick, there's a 60% chance that he lies in surveys. That is why you can't poll Ricks. Too much margin for error."

Gallup Morty coughed, folding his arms.

"Al-alright then. Ask your question. I don’t- I don’t have all day."

Morty cleared his throat.

"Which Morty in the Citadel network is the happiest with his Rick?"

...

Rick was sitting on the couch, watching interdimensional cable, just chilling, bottle in hand. Life felt good. Very good, in fact. 

But there was something missing. Rick hated to put a name to that feeling, but Rick definitely felt like he could use Morty there, sitting next to him. He wanted that constant presence to tease and bicker with, and Morty’s stubborn ass would soon realize that and come back.

Beth walked to the living room, hands on hips.

"Dad? What are you doing?"

Rick grabbed a bag of potato chips from the table and started munching on them.

"Oh, you know, just- just watching TV. Just –euurgh- chilling. You know."

Beth raised her eyebrows. 

"Where's Morty? You never watch TV without Morty."

Rick turned to face Beth. 

"Look, I'll tell you- I'll level with you. Morty needs to- he has to do some g-growing up, learn not to depend on me s-so much. Th-that's why I sent him away for a bit."

Beth threw her hands up in the air.

"You sent him away? And you didn't think about asking me first?"

Rick took a handful of potato chips and bit down. He could tell Beth was furious. But she'd be even more furious if he'd told her the truth.

Rick turned back to the TV.

“It’s- it’s part of the test that I don’t know where he is. And you couldn’t- obviously you couldn’t know either.”

Rick glanced at Beth. He could see his daughter was having a hard time holding her temper in check.

“Alright, alright. I’ll go look for him, if it’s so –euuurgh- so damn important.”

...

This was the place. It was the 80s night club that Miami Morty worked in. 

Pulse-pounding music shook the table that Morty was leaning on. All around him lounged a sea of people both familiar and unfamiliar-looking.

Morty had found his way in there without much incident, and he’d even managed to arrange to meet with Miami Morty at the club. He’d felt so euphoric upon stepping in, so free. But now, inside, things were different.

Morty had never felt so eerie before, and out of place. He thought it must be something in the lights. He could swear the strobe lights painted colors and patterns on the walls that you couldn't see in his own universe.

Of course, there was also the fact that Morty was watching a version of himself pole dancing up on the stage, only he could never be as suggestive and elegant at the same time. It was spellbinding. 

And how liberating. He himself could be a different kind of Morty altogether if he so wanted.

Morty watched Miami Morty lick his lollipop while scanning through the audience with his smoky, half-lidded eyes. Morty sweated. His yellow t-shirt felt so clunky and awkward on him. He twitched in time to the rhythm. The beat was pounding, and so were his temples.

The music ended, and Miami Morty stepped down from the stage. He came to Morty, grinning. Now that he was down here and not up on the stage, he seemed much more like Morty himself - not the ethereal dancer from before.

"How'd you like it?"

Morty couldn't really tell how to put his feelings in words.

"Ah, man, I- I really don't know how you do that, it seemed like- it looked p-pretty amazing!"

Miami Morty gave a slow smile.

"You wanna be more like me, is that it, honey?"

Morty's head was pounding. Miami Morty's gaze was like a drug, making Morty feel all weird and giddy inside. And the whole place was like another world where it felt like anything could happen.

On impulse, Morty nodded. Miami Morty took his hand and dragged him along to the back room.

…

In the back room, there was Miami Rick. He sat on a hot pink plush chair, fidgeting with some kind of tube. There were lines of some pink powdery substance on the table.

Miami Rick turned towards Morty. He grinned much like Miami Morty had before.

"H-hiya."

Morty stiffened under Miami Rick's gaze as he was reminded of his own Rick. He flinched at first, then slowly let himself relax. Miami Rick had no intense gaze, no threatening posture. On second thought, he didn't look so very much like Morty’s Rick at all.

"H-hello."

"T-take a- sit down, why don't you?"

Morty pulled up a chair and sat, Miami Morty coming to stand beside him. Miami Rick gestured at the pink stuff on the table.

"Y-you want some?"

Morty had no idea what the stuff even was, but he didn't feel like admitting to that.

"U-uh, no thanks, I'm- I'm good."

Miami Rick leaned back on his chair.

"A'right, I get it. But take some- take some wine at least."

Miami Rick poured a glass before Morty had time to object, then slid it in front of Morty. There was no helping it. Morty would have to take a sip, at least.

“Th-thanks.”

Morty was already regretting coming here. He felt so wrong and out of place. But now there was no backing out of this thing.

Morty gulped some wine to steel his nerves, trying not to taste it. After it went down, however, it was impossible to hide his grimace.

This night wasn’t starting well.


	3. Chapter 3

Almost immediately after drinking, Morty’s mind began to race in a sort of panic. He'd never drank alcohol before. Would he get drunk? Would he become weird? What the hell would happen to him? In the seat across from Morty, Miami Morty had sat down and was already sipping his drink, a bright pink cocktail. Morty didn't want to look like a pussy next to his counterpart, but the truth was he most likely did.

Miami Rick smiled at Morty with an air of casual interest, his eyes flicking to the wine glass.

"Just d-drink it up." Miami Rick laughed, but his was not an unfriendly laugh. "It won't kill ya."

Morty took another sip, better prepared this time. It still tasted a little bitter, and made him feel sort of tired. But it wasn't bad. Morty looked up at Miami Rick next to him, then at Morty.

"I-it's good, yeah."

Morty knew he'd have to drink the wine all up now, and so he did. Luckily, the glass really wasn't big, and so he didn't feel too woozy when he was finished with it. The world just had a slight blur to it and everything sounded just a little more hazy and seductive... the music pounding just outside the room, Rick's voice when he said the name of the wine - which Morty immediately forgot - even his own breathing. Morty started feeling dizzy. Had he become drunk after all, or was he going crazy?

Morty startled when he felt Miami Rick's hand on his shoulder.

"L-let's go club-hopping, kay?"

"S-sure."

...

The walk around nighttime city felt... surreal. Miami Rick kept cracking obscure jokes and laughing raucously while Miami Morty affectionately swatted him and told him to shut up. Morty found he couldn't concentrate. He was excited, and a little scared, but not the bad kind of scared he used to have with his Rick - this was different. With Miami Rick, Morty felt like he was safe, even though the man definitely had the air of danger about him.

Morty felt disconnected from himself. Miami Rick offered him a swig of his flask and Morty found himself taking him up on the offer, only to realize that the stuff in there was much stronger than the wine. 

There was also the fact that the weird-smelling smoke from Miami Rick's cigarette – Morty had taken one puff, if he recalled correctly - was giving him a headache along with a slightly giddy, dizzy feeling. All these things added up to create a sense of unreality, and the walk to the next club seemed to pass by in a blur.

The three of them ended up on a VIP balcony at a plush-carpeted dance club. The air was tinted neon blue from the surrounding lights. The shadows on the walls pulsed in time to the music, mesmerizing Morty.

"What's so interesting?" 

It took a while for Morty to realize that Miami Rick was talking to him.

"Th-the swirls on the w-walls- they remind me of this snail toy my s-sister used to have and, um, was p-passed down to me-"

"I get it, you're just high."

Miami Rick's hand landed on Morty's shoulder. Morty stiffened all over. His leg gave a little spasm. He felt suddenly afraid.

"Look at me," Miami Rick said.

Morty slowly turned his head. He was suddenly afraid of meeting Miami Rick's eyes, so instead he focused his eyes lower, at Rick's sleeve. God, why was he so awkward?

Miami Rick tightened his grip on Morty's shoulder.

"Look at me," he said slowly. "In the eye."

Morty suppressed a whimper. The low growl of Rick's voice just then had given him shivers.

Morty looked Rick in the eye. A slow smile spread on Rick's face, and Morty now couldn't help but watch. 

Miami Rick reached out his finger and tugged on Morty's lower lip. Morty instinctively leaned closer, a low moan escaping from his lips.

Miami Rick smiled. "Good," he whispered.

Miami Rick pulled his finger away. 

"Do you want more?"

Morty had only half heard the question. His brain was swirling, but still he kept his attention on Rick. He nodded.

"Really?"

Morty wasn't sure anymore. He wasn't quite clear on what Rick was asking. Still, he nodded.

"Then open your mouth."

Morty closed his eyes and opened his mouth.

A second or so passed, and then Morty felt a violent heat upon him.

As his brain registered the feeling of Rick's tongue forcefully entering his mouth, a dozen questions sprang to Morty's mind, a hundred doubts. What's Rick doing and why, what's he thinking, what's going to happen, why isn't Miami Morty saying anything, and why does this feel so scary?

Morty whimpered. He tried to open his mouth, but Miami Rick filled it up with his tongue.

Morty gagged, and Rick pulled away. Morty's pulse felt like a dozen rabbits running on his chest at once, and he didn't dare to look at Miami Rick.

"Rick, wh-"

Rick pried Morty's lips wide open with his fingers, saying nothing.

Morty squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to know what was going to happen. He didn't want to, but he kept thinking about the possibilities, and worrying about what they might mean, and the anxiety of it all.

”You want more?”

Morty was distantly aware of Miami Rick’s voice in the blurry distance. Blessedly, he couldn’t think. He could just nod.

”Then get on the floor. On your knees.”

Morty didn’t understand at first. His brain kept swirling, incomprehensible shapes running in the backs of his eyelids. He was certainly going crazy. Then he felt a gentle push guiding his head down, and he was on the floor.

Morty forgot about everything as he felt something thick entering his mouth and immediately realized it must be Rick's cock. There was no room for doubt, even though he’d had no idea.

A dizzy feeling washed all over Morty. Everything was hazy. He was left floating. He had Rick's cock in his mouth, and he loved it. He had no time to think about anything else.

Morty spitted and gagged. Rick drove his fingers into Morty's skull, fucking his little mouth hard. Morty's lips kept slipping off Rick's cock, but he always wrapped them around it again. Hungry for more, Morty couldn't form coherent thoughts anymore.

Somebody took hold of Morty's head, gently but firmly guiding it away.

"I'll show you how," Miami Morty whispered. "If you wanna."

Morty drew ragged breaths, his head swimming. It was hard enough to listen, impossible to answer.

Miami Morty pressed his cheek against Morty's. "Do you? Yes or no?"

Morty somehow found his shaking voice. "Y-yes."

"Then watch."

Miami Morty got down on his knees in front of Rick, gently licking the side of his cock. He fingered Rick's balls with his other hand while he grabbed the shaft with the other.

Morty leaned in. He felt weirdly glued to the scene in front of him. Miami Morty started moving his head while Rick gently rocked his hips.

Rick took a hold of Morty's hair and lifted his head even higher. A whimper passed Morty's parted lips.

"W-wait for your turn, baby. And- and watch."

Morty watched as Rick drove his cock deeper and deeper into Miami Morty's mouth, thrust it hard enough to make him gag.

Miami Rick slowed down and then came to a stop. 

"Morty."

Morty let out an incoherent sound, not an answer by any measure. Rick grabbed his chin hard.

"M-morty. I'm gonna f-fuck you in the ass now. Is- is that clear?"

Morty nodded, his eyes squeezes tightly shut. He didn't know what was what anymore. All he knew was that his cock was throbbing, aching.

"T-touch me, R-Rick..."

Morty didn't want to hear his own voice saying that. He tried not to think about it, but god did he want Rick's cock.

Rick squeezed Morty's chin.

"Wh-what's that? Didn't hear it. Louder, s-speak up."

"T-touch my cock."

Morty almost breathed out the words. Rick's grin widened then.

"S-sure babe, while I f-fuck you. D'ya want it hard or gentle?"

Morty tried to imagine either possibility, but found his brain short-circuiting, in an unresponsive state. He wanted to say he'd take anything as long as he could have Rick's cock right now, but that was a much too complicated thing to say. Morty moaned instead, saliva dripping from his open mouth.

Rick chuckled. "I- I guess hard it is, then. Hold his head down."

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: If you're in the Rick & Morty fandom, I don't think I need to tell you this, but it doesn't hurt: fiction is fiction. I don't condone abuse in real life. This is just fantasy for people like myself who dig such things.


End file.
